"The Kellas"
3rd post OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH ISSA PAGECLAIM!!!! YA DANCER!!!!!
TWILIGHT OF THE GODS
AN AGE OF STRIFE STORY
OBJECTIVE 1
WILDCAT_ONE
TRIBAL-CHIEFTAIN OF AN-TUATHA
MAJOR-GENERAL OF WILDCAT DIVISION
BELIGERENTS
(EE/EMPIRE/AC Vs. BOTM/DH/SH)
Ingrid L'lerim
Victor Vel Aath
Myri Dara
Kriegan Tavlar
Bex Tarring
Hiran Avola
Saul Vandron
Tyrell Lockhart
Nukth Kelga'an
Heinrich Faust
Elysium Dusk
Scipio Kaarz
Kyrel Ren
Keilara Kala'myr
Erion Justeene
Ronar
Khamul Kryze
TRIBULATIONS OF THE WILDCATS III: A FOREST AFLAME - PART 3
FOB: Tuatha, Mt. Suntower,
Canthar Province, Panatha (Early-Spring 877 ABY)
'Might be an existentialistic clusterkark, but the situation definitely looks more hopeful with every Imperial contingent that shows up.', Kerr chimed in after hearing his Major-General's signoff, steadily calming down from the stresses of his most recent patrol southwards. Though Lord Aron normally wasn't a fan of such behaviours, seeing the change in his subordinate's demeanour would provide the exception factor that yielded something of an appreciative look in the Staff-Sergeant's direction, kindly given a prompt to continue as they walked through the trees with firearms drawn.
'Meeting the legendary Saul Vandron in person though, that - that's the proper morale-booster right there. Compare the stormies to the Free-State aw yees like.... But none can doubt the commander o' the 501st.'
All were agreed on the matter, with Scott and Gowrie both nodded wordless, though chuckling agreement as they continued on their way to find the Emperor's legion, and despite their differences in political affiliation, there was much the Tarkinists could accord with Felism on the battlefield, and in conventional theatres of war in particular. But unlike the others, Lord Aron could easily recount three separate iterations of whom he had shared a battlefield with, first was with Tavlar's iteration, next was Fel's, and in the two recent battles in particular, the third iteration would be in seeing Vandron's updated concept in action on Nirauan and New-Alderaan alike. The right people were on the ground to make the right plays, the right courses to victory, and in the process of humouring Kerr's high-praise, Gowrie couldn't help but think how badly the Wildcats would be depleted in plugging strategic gaps without them.
'Meadow up ahead.... Looks clear to me.... And yes, Kerr. You're quite right about that. The 501st have evolved extremely well under three of the Empire's best strategists, and our greatest contingents, excluding substitute-commanders, only ever knew one for each of them in comparison. Perspective there if you'll take it.'
Grateful that the Empire was still holding the monopoly on excellence in vanguard warfare, even with strong emerging powers constantly threatening to snatch it out from under their feet, Lord Aron would be left with no other option but concede the point to his non-commissioned subordinate. But other, more pressing matters would keep them all from enjoying the leisurely stroll eastwards, intrepid though it had been already; and for as long as they remained isolated between contingents, the dangers would always remain present on Panatha, especially with the giant rift considered. However, this time, the disturbance would be minor, interrupted by Major Scott's comm-link device as they reached the treeline of a rather peaceful, though bushy clearing, and with more concerning news that affected the northern cauldron directly.
Both the Major-General and the Staff-Sergeant could hear what was being said on the Guard-Major's comm-frequency though the headset, as both were close enough to their colleague when the recon commander patched through, presenting quite the problem for their ability to gather intel in their attempt to sweep round the rift as a result of the increased risks. With head bowed in wrathful dejection, Lord Byron could do nothing to hide the audible, baulking growl that escaped his suppression, unclasping and taking off his helmet to light a cigarette before turning to the others to state,'Extensive though my vocab surely is, I have no fitting words to describe how much I loathe - this - fething - PLANET!!!!', with eyes growing increasingly bloodshot from a rather-revealing state of sleepless, exhausted rage.
But in Major Scott's rage-induced, sleep-deprived amplification of sensory sensitivity, the rainy light reaching through the gap in the trees would both bring about a light-sensitive wince and an overheard, well-recognised roar of a Cataphract engine in the moments following a gear-shift.
'We're close.... Seems like they're moving the column forward in anticipation.'
And like a shot, the Tuath-born trio sprinted their way through the bushes until they found the contingent they were looking for, all set in a compact, though lengthy armoured formation. All comprised of tanks, IFVs, repulsorlift technicals, APCs and the like, though there was plenty in the way of manpower advancing on foot, and in gazing across the entirety from front to back, Lord Aron couldn't help but smile in appreciation of the purpose behind it. The 501st wanted to flank heavily, and with plenty speediness about it, proving they intended to surprise the Mawites in the east, and just as much as the Wildcats were in the hours leading up to Vandron's arrival. Walking downhill to their allies' command-vehicle from the treeline, and from there all postures steadily relaxed enough to safety their firearms, with Kerr and Scott clipping Disruptor rifles to their shoulder slings and Gowrie holstering his beloved Fragarach as they waved kindly intentions to the guards as the trio strolled their way towards the well-protected slide-door.
One guard recognised the Kellas' face first, then the one next to him recognised the wildcat-paw insignia, with the one opposite recognising the uniforms and equipment of the others almost immediately after, making it all the easier to grant access without question, obligating both parties to trade kindly nods and greetings as Lord Aron's small retinue passed the veneer-like threshold of the ACV's only entrance.
'Greetings from the Tuaths of Wildcat Division, gentlemen. We're looking for General Vandron, work t'be done an' all that caper. Any idea where he is?'
TWILIGHT OF THE GODS
AN AGE OF STRIFE STORY
OBJECTIVE 1
WILDCAT_ONE
TRIBAL-CHIEFTAIN OF AN-TUATHA
MAJOR-GENERAL OF WILDCAT DIVISION
BELIGERENTS
(EE/EMPIRE/AC Vs. BOTM/DH/SH)
Ingrid L'lerim
Victor Vel Aath
Myri Dara
Kriegan Tavlar
Bex Tarring
Hiran Avola
Saul Vandron
Tyrell Lockhart
Nukth Kelga'an
Heinrich Faust
Elysium Dusk
Scipio Kaarz
Kyrel Ren
Keilara Kala'myr
Erion Justeene
Ronar
Khamul Kryze
TRIBULATIONS OF THE WILDCATS III: A FOREST AFLAME - PART 3
Canthar Province, Panatha (Early-Spring 877 ABY)
<"Reed to Wildcat One! Yinchorr's on the scene, bearing northward with the Banshees leading their formation. Vectoring on Vandron's rallying-point, believe it or not.">
<"Good, about time we saw the Anaxsi on the ground again! Keep 'em vectored on the rallying-point if it happens they're looking for me, I'll handle the rest when we get there. Wildcat One out!">
<"Good, about time we saw the Anaxsi on the ground again! Keep 'em vectored on the rallying-point if it happens they're looking for me, I'll handle the rest when we get there. Wildcat One out!">
'Might be an existentialistic clusterkark, but the situation definitely looks more hopeful with every Imperial contingent that shows up.', Kerr chimed in after hearing his Major-General's signoff, steadily calming down from the stresses of his most recent patrol southwards. Though Lord Aron normally wasn't a fan of such behaviours, seeing the change in his subordinate's demeanour would provide the exception factor that yielded something of an appreciative look in the Staff-Sergeant's direction, kindly given a prompt to continue as they walked through the trees with firearms drawn.
'Meeting the legendary Saul Vandron in person though, that - that's the proper morale-booster right there. Compare the stormies to the Free-State aw yees like.... But none can doubt the commander o' the 501st.'
All were agreed on the matter, with Scott and Gowrie both nodded wordless, though chuckling agreement as they continued on their way to find the Emperor's legion, and despite their differences in political affiliation, there was much the Tarkinists could accord with Felism on the battlefield, and in conventional theatres of war in particular. But unlike the others, Lord Aron could easily recount three separate iterations of whom he had shared a battlefield with, first was with Tavlar's iteration, next was Fel's, and in the two recent battles in particular, the third iteration would be in seeing Vandron's updated concept in action on Nirauan and New-Alderaan alike. The right people were on the ground to make the right plays, the right courses to victory, and in the process of humouring Kerr's high-praise, Gowrie couldn't help but think how badly the Wildcats would be depleted in plugging strategic gaps without them.
'Meadow up ahead.... Looks clear to me.... And yes, Kerr. You're quite right about that. The 501st have evolved extremely well under three of the Empire's best strategists, and our greatest contingents, excluding substitute-commanders, only ever knew one for each of them in comparison. Perspective there if you'll take it.'
Grateful that the Empire was still holding the monopoly on excellence in vanguard warfare, even with strong emerging powers constantly threatening to snatch it out from under their feet, Lord Aron would be left with no other option but concede the point to his non-commissioned subordinate. But other, more pressing matters would keep them all from enjoying the leisurely stroll eastwards, intrepid though it had been already; and for as long as they remained isolated between contingents, the dangers would always remain present on Panatha, especially with the giant rift considered. However, this time, the disturbance would be minor, interrupted by Major Scott's comm-link device as they reached the treeline of a rather peaceful, though bushy clearing, and with more concerning news that affected the northern cauldron directly.
<"McGinn to Guardian One! Sit-Rep from Shadow Platoon.... Silence in the east. The Maw are deployed aggressively now, enemy defensive positions bereft of raiders but with no sign of retreat to be seen.">
<"Scott to Guardian Two-Four! Retreat - and I mean now! You're being hunted!">
<"Ah, chit.... I fething knew it! Ordering RTB now, sir.... They're gettin' slippery noo, eh? Doesn't matter. Further Sit-Reps inbound so stand by. Guardian Two-Four out!">
<"Scott to Guardian Two-Four! Retreat - and I mean now! You're being hunted!">
<"Ah, chit.... I fething knew it! Ordering RTB now, sir.... They're gettin' slippery noo, eh? Doesn't matter. Further Sit-Reps inbound so stand by. Guardian Two-Four out!">
Both the Major-General and the Staff-Sergeant could hear what was being said on the Guard-Major's comm-frequency though the headset, as both were close enough to their colleague when the recon commander patched through, presenting quite the problem for their ability to gather intel in their attempt to sweep round the rift as a result of the increased risks. With head bowed in wrathful dejection, Lord Byron could do nothing to hide the audible, baulking growl that escaped his suppression, unclasping and taking off his helmet to light a cigarette before turning to the others to state,'Extensive though my vocab surely is, I have no fitting words to describe how much I loathe - this - fething - PLANET!!!!', with eyes growing increasingly bloodshot from a rather-revealing state of sleepless, exhausted rage.
But in Major Scott's rage-induced, sleep-deprived amplification of sensory sensitivity, the rainy light reaching through the gap in the trees would both bring about a light-sensitive wince and an overheard, well-recognised roar of a Cataphract engine in the moments following a gear-shift.
'We're close.... Seems like they're moving the column forward in anticipation.'
And like a shot, the Tuath-born trio sprinted their way through the bushes until they found the contingent they were looking for, all set in a compact, though lengthy armoured formation. All comprised of tanks, IFVs, repulsorlift technicals, APCs and the like, though there was plenty in the way of manpower advancing on foot, and in gazing across the entirety from front to back, Lord Aron couldn't help but smile in appreciation of the purpose behind it. The 501st wanted to flank heavily, and with plenty speediness about it, proving they intended to surprise the Mawites in the east, and just as much as the Wildcats were in the hours leading up to Vandron's arrival. Walking downhill to their allies' command-vehicle from the treeline, and from there all postures steadily relaxed enough to safety their firearms, with Kerr and Scott clipping Disruptor rifles to their shoulder slings and Gowrie holstering his beloved Fragarach as they waved kindly intentions to the guards as the trio strolled their way towards the well-protected slide-door.
One guard recognised the Kellas' face first, then the one next to him recognised the wildcat-paw insignia, with the one opposite recognising the uniforms and equipment of the others almost immediately after, making it all the easier to grant access without question, obligating both parties to trade kindly nods and greetings as Lord Aron's small retinue passed the veneer-like threshold of the ACV's only entrance.
'Greetings from the Tuaths of Wildcat Division, gentlemen. We're looking for General Vandron, work t'be done an' all that caper. Any idea where he is?'
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